From the movie "Deadman", by Jim Jarmush

In the 1800', somewhere in the North American West a man named William Blake (no relation of course to the poet) is rescued as he lays dying by an Indian who calls himself Nobody, as Ulysses. Nobody knows William Blake's poetry, and believes to be talking to its author. At a certain point in the movie upon request he introduces himself. He is riding while he does so, and his narration is therefore slow and choppy.

William Blake: Nobody? Er ... Shouldn't you be with your tribe or something?

Nobody: My blood is mixed. My mother was Ungampe-Pecane, my father is Absoluca. This mixture was not respected. As a small boy, I was often left to myself, so I spent many months stalking the Elk People, to prove I would soon bocome a good hunter. One day finally my Elk brothers took pity on me, and a young elk gave his life to me. With only my knife I took his life. As I prepared to cut the meat, white men came upon me: they were English soldiers. I cut one with my knife, but they hit me on my head with a rifle. All went black. The spirits seemed to leave me.

I was then taken east, in a cage. I was taken to Toronto, then Philadelphia, and then to New York. And each time I arrived in another city somehow the white men had moved all their people there ahead of me. Each new city contained the same white people as the last, and I couldn't understand how a whole city of people could be moved so quickly.

Eventually I was taken on a ship and crossed the great sea, over to England, and I was paraded before them like a captured animal. An exhibit. And so I mimicked them, imitating their ways, hoping that they might lose interest in this young savage, but their interest only grew.
So they placed me in the white man's schools. It was there that I discovered in a book the words that you, William Blake, had written. They were powerful words, and they spoke to me.

But I made careful plans, and I eventually escaped. Once again I crossed the great ocean. I saw many sad things as I made my way back to the lands of my people. Once they realized who I was, the stories of my adventures angered them. They called me a liar, Exebiche, "he who talks loud, saying nothing". They ridiculed me, my own people ... and I was left to wander the Earth alone ... I am nobody.